


Dancin's A Dangerous Game

by KiaraMGrey, Z A Dusk (snakeandmoon)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Western, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Chance Meetings, Cowboys Omens, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Good Omens Reverse Bang, Lost Love, M/M, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, but only mentioned, they're cowboys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28940379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaraMGrey/pseuds/KiaraMGrey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeandmoon/pseuds/Z%20A%20Dusk
Summary: Crowley has spent most of his life riding the range and doing what he can to survive in the hard world of the West. But when he hears a name from his past, a name that brings back eyes as blue as a Texas sky and hair like clouds on a summers day, it'll remind him that he once dreamed of so much more. But after what happened all those years ago, will that dream be within his grasp?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 84
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang, Good Omens Human AUs





	Dancin's A Dangerous Game

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Do It With Style Reverse Bang! I want to thank [Z A Dusk (snakeandmoon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeandmoon/pseuds/Z%20A%20Dusk) for the lovely playlist that inspired this fic, and also for being an amazing Beta! I've been wanting to do a Cowboys Omens for a while and I'm so glad they were excited for the idea as well. This fic wouldn't exist without them! Here is the [Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLAAlkE59DUsQ_WpUyD5ri4OMuJxLKYKmn) ! 
> 
> Also, a few things! I actually live where this fic is set, and all of the picture provided are ones I took while off-roading a few years ago and will give you a good idea of the landscape. I'm really excited to write a fic set in my beautiful home state and share not only this fic, but the beauty of Arizona.

The Territory of Arizona, 1911

The heat beat down with a ferocity akin to a blazing fire, and Crowley was thankful for the brim of his hat blocking it from his face. Even if his head beneath the hat burned like an egg on a skillet, it was better than the persistent pain there would be without it. He brought his handkerchief up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“We’re nearly there, girl. Less than a mile until Tucson.” 

Bentley whinnied, tossing her black mane dolefully. She hadn’t wanted to make this trip to begin with. But there had been nothing left for them back the way they came, not if he ever wanted a plot of land of his own. He’d heard that this was the place to be if one wanted to earn enough money to make it. 

As they came around the bend, he spotted the settlement below. Tucson was a growing town, said to have a boom soon that would make it competitive with the larger mining towns along the west coast. Crowley had no idea if that were true, but it was worth a shot. 

“See, told you we were almost there,” he said, patting Bentley’s flank. She resolutely ignored him, instead starting up a gallop to get them there sooner. 

The townspeople eyed him suspiciously as he rode in. People in these parts were always distrustful of newcomers, and with good reason. Nobody wanted another Billy the Kid situation, even if Crowley sometimes fantasized about being an outlaw. But that was a young man's game, and at nearly forty he was far past that. No, he just wanted a few acres of land and a place to call home. Maybe he could even get a dog if he were really dreaming big. 

The saloon loomed ahead, and he guided Bentley to the water trough out front. He patted her gently before tying her up and heading inside. The doors swung inward with a loud creak, making everyone inside look up at him. Uncomfortable with the sudden attention, he ducked his head and tipped his hat, making his way to the bar. 

“Afternoon darlin’, what can I get you?” asked the woman at the bar. Her red hair was twisted up on top of her head and stuck with several feathers and flowers, and her corset was tighter than necessary. Overall, she appeared quite the character. 

“Anything cold.”

She smirked and poured a bottle of something brown. “You know full well we don’t have anything cold out here. Best I can do is wet.”

He snorted. “I’ll take it.” The liquor burned his throat as it went down and he tried not to wince, while the barmaid watched with amusement. 

“You’re new in town.”

“Mmm, perceptive, you are.”

She wagged a finger in his face. “Don’t you sass me young man. If you have any plans to stay, you’ll want to make a friend of me.”

Crowley leaned on the counter and raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Oh yes. See, I hold the real power in this town, on account of the fact that I control both this drinking hole and the brothel above it.”

He hummed. “I see. You’ve got all the valuable assets locked down.”

She raised a glass. “That I do.”

“And would a lady of your standing have a name to go by?”

“Madame Tracy will do nicely. And you, stranger?”

He took another sip of his drink. “Crowley.”

“Crowley,” she repeated. “Would that be your first or last name?”

“Eh, just Crowley.”

She assessed him through narrowed eyes for several moments before shrugging. “Alright, it’s no skin off my teeth either way.”

He smiled and turned back to the rest of the saloon, which was filled with gruff looking men and tightly dressed women. He saw a few of the women making eyes at him, but he paid them no mind. His interests fell far outside their area of expertise. He was also aware of being generally assessed by the men around him, narrowed eyes roaming over his tall figure. He made sure his gun was prominently displayed on his hip, just in case anyone got any ideas about what might be in his purse. 

“So, Mr. Crowley—”

“Just Crowley,” he corrected the madame. 

“Right, Crowley. What have you come to our little town for?”

“I’m looking for work. Came over from Texas. Work’s dried up in those parts over the past few years and I thought I’d try my luck somewhere new. This seemed as good a place as any.”

Tracy nodded. “I’ve heard that. Are you looking to get work in the copper mines?”

Crowley scrunched up his face. “No. Definitely not. I don’t do well in dark, small places. I prefer the open plains. Was hoping to get a job at a nearby ranch. You wouldn’t happen to know of anyone hiring?”

She hummed and tapped her nails on the countertop, her lips pursed in thought. “As a matter of fact, I heard Mr. Fell was looking for a field hand to help out on his little ranch.”

Crowley stilled with his glass part way to his lips, his heart flipping painfully in his chest. Surely, it couldn’t be the same Fell as all those years ago. What were the odds that he would find him again, here, after twelve years? 

“Mr. Fell?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Aziraphale Fell. He owns around twenty acres about three miles up. Has a herd of cattle. He’s a lovely man, really.”

Oh, Crowley knew that. He remembered, clear as day, just how lovely he had been. So it was definitely him then. Nobody else would have such a ridiculous name. Images of eyes as blue as a Texas sky and hair as white as the clouds above rose to his mind, fogging his memory with feelings he had thought long since buried. Would Aziraphale even remember him after so many years? 

“Where did you say his ranch was?”

“Just up through the Santa Catalina Mountains. Keep going until you see his signs, you shouldn’t be able to miss them. Just tell him Madame Tracy sent you, and I’m sure he’ll take to you right away.”

He offered her a tight smile and a nod. If Aziraphale remembered him even a fragment as much as he remembered Aziraphale, that shouldn’t be an issue. He walked out of the saloon and found Bentley drinking deeply from the trough. 

“Let’s go girl.”

He untied her and climbed a-saddle, turning and making their way through the town the way Tracy had indicated. Dust kicked up in their wake, sticking to his already sweaty skin and making him itch. He needed a bath, and he doubted there were any rivers nearby. At least Bentley seemed in better spirits now that she had gotten water and a small rest. 

“We’re going to see someone I used to know a long time ago, girl. Way before I got you. Doubt he’ll have any memory of me though. He’s probably lived the kind of life I only dreamed of. Must have, if he has his own ranch.”

When they’d met, they had both been young men. Crowley had gotten employment on a large ranch over a summer, along with a few others, and Aziraphale had been one of them. Crowley would never forget the first moment he saw him, for as long as he lived. He’d just finished guiding a few errant sheep back the way they had come, when a second ranch hand had ridden up to him. He’d planned on snapping at the other cowboy that he could do it just fine on his own without being mothered. That is, until he saw him.

The setting sun had been behind him, keeping him backlit until he drew level. The way the light had caught the smooth planes of his face had frozen Crowley in his tracks. He remembered thinking how impossibly white his hat was, like it hadn’t seen a speck of dust in its existence, which was ridiculous since there was dust wirling around them at that exact moment. 

_“Evening. You must be Crowley?”_

Crowley had blinked a few times, forcing his brain to work properly. _“Yep, that’s me.”_

He had been graced with a thousand-watt smile from the gorgeous man and it had knocked the breath out of him. _Oh, damn_ , he had thought. _This isn’t good_.

_“Wonderful. I’m Aziraphale. Mr. Archer asked me to come out here and help you bring these poor lost souls back to the ranch. But it appears you have it all in hand.”_

Crowley had licked his dry lips, the moisture barely enough to quench the drought his skin was plagued with. _“Well, I could always use the extra help. Won’t turn you down.”_

Humor had danced in Aziraphale’s blue eyes. _“That’s lovely to hear. I’d have hated riding out here for nothing.”_

Crowley had allowed a slow smile to pull at his lips as he tipped his hat back. _“What sort of gentleman would I be if I did that?”_

 _“Mm,”_ Aziraphale had hummed in agreeance. _“That’s true. What sort indeed. I might even think you were some sort of scoundrel.”_

Something had skipped in Crowley’s chest at the gentle, teasing tone, along with the mischievous way Aziraphale’s eyes had appraised him. 

_“Well now, only if you want me to be.”_

The rest of that summer had been one of the best of Crowley’s life. He and Aziraphale had taken every opportunity to be paired together on jobs, riding together on day long trips into the hills and collecting the cattle or sheep that had wandered too far from home. Aziraphale had the gentlest of touches, able to calm and soothe even the most temperamental steer, and sometimes Crowley had felt like one of the wild beasts rearing beneath the gentle gaze of the angel. That’s what he had taken to calling him in his mind, and eventually during quiet moments alone together. 

Aziraphale never admonished him for the name, only ever blushing and looking away shyly. Those five months together had truly been a paradise in the middle of the barren wasteland that was Crowley’s life. That is, until it all came crashing down. They had been given the day off and decided to ride down to the river to swim and enjoy lunch. It had been a beautiful early September day, and Crowley had felt such a peace in his heart that he had thrown all caution to the wind. He had known, looking into Aziraphale’s eyes as he laughed at something Crowley had said, that he loved the angel completely. There had never been anyone else who made his heart pound like the hooves of a stallion loose on the plains. And so it hadn’t been difficult at all to lean forward and press his chapped lips against the silky softness of Aziraphale’s. And oh, Aziraphale had kissed him back, leaning forward and sliding his hand into the hair at the base of his neck. Everything in his body had lit up at that moment, burning and falling and rising, all at the same time. 

_This is it,_ he had thought. _He’s it for me._

They had broken the kiss and laughed, sharing bashful smiles and holding hands, then finished up their lunch before riding back. Aziraphale has seemed distant and distracted for the rest of the day, but Crowley had brushed that off as normal. He told himself that it was to be expected when you finally admit your feelings to yourself. In truth, Crowley had been distracted himself, planning out where they would go next together. So when he awoke the next morning to discover that Aziraphale was gone, he hadn’t been able to fully believe it. Surely, he had just ridden out for the day and would be back by sunset. But he wasn’t. He had left Crowley.

He had thought that a broken heart was a metaphorical thing. But no, it had truly felt like his chest was cracking in half, bleeding something essential out into the open. He had wondered, briefly, if he could die from it. From the utter pain and anguish of it. But he didn’t die. He waited a full week, holding out hope that Aziraphale would come back. When he didn’t, Crowley packed up his things and moved on. Or at least tried. He never forgot him. Not his smile, or his voice, or his laugh, or his kiss. None of it. It lived on in the narrow gap he had made for him, pushing all else aside and consuming that space entirely for itself. 

And now he was riding to him once more. Part of him was screaming to turn around, to ride on until he hit the next town and forget about him. Aziraphale didn’t want to see him. If he had ever cared, he wouldn’t have left him to begin with. This was foolish. And yet a larger part of him didn’t care. Even if Aziraphale took one look at him and told him to get off his property, it would be worth it just to see him again. To confirm he was real and not some figment of his imagination, created to ward off the loneliness that had always lived inside him. And so he rode on until he saw the wooden sign indicating Fell Ranch. 

It was a simple thing, roughly carved and hung on a post beside the wire fencing. Crowley nudged Bentley into a gallop, eager to reach his destination. Well, perhaps not eager. Anxious, more like. Either way, he’d rather get it over with. A single-story house appeared ahead, set into the golden sand and surrounded by towering saguaros, the red and green of the Catalina Mountains serving as a breathtaking backdrop. Crowley scanned the land, looking for any sign of Aziraphale. When he didn’t see anyone, he rode closer. It wasn’t until he was nearly upon the house that he spotted life, or at least heard it. Someone was singing, a clear melody ringing out from behind the house. Crowley urged Bentley closer. 

“ _Oh, when I’m away from you, dear, everything feels wrong. Oh, today seems an endless misery, and the nights, oh the nights, so long!”_

Crowley smiled as he rounded the house. Someone was bent over beside a magnificently white horse, its hoof in their lap as they cleaned and scraped away debris. Even without seeing his face, Crowley knew it was Aziraphale. The wide expanse of his shoulders, the white curls that blew gently in the breeze, the round curve of his ass. It was him alright. He didn’t seem to hear Crowley approaching, too absorbed in his task and song. Crowley didn’t want to spook him while he was handling the horse, so he waited until he set its foot down to speak. 

“You always did enjoy music.”

Aziraphale gasped and straightened, his head whipping around to face him. “Oh, oh good Lord! You scared me. I didn’t hear you riding up I’m afraid. Sorry, what was that?”

Crowley’s heart gave a painful thud. Oh, he was just as beautiful as he remembered. Same bright blue eyes, same round cheeks and curved nose. Beautiful, even with the added lines near his eyes. He watched as Aziraphale wiped his hands on his pants and stood. Did he not recognize him then? Something painful and nauseating twisted in his stomach. He had known Aziraphale didn’t feel the same as him, but he had hoped he was important enough to at least be granted a place in his memory. 

“I uh, I said you always did enjoy music.”

Aziraphale took a step closer and finally looked him in the eye. And oh, there it was. Recognition. Aziraphale’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, a sharp intake of air dragging past his lips. 

“Crowley?”

He pushed his hat back to better look at him. “Hey there, angel. Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

Aziraphale was completely still but for his eyes, which were darting around Crowley’s face. He looked as though he were trying to figure out a particularly difficult problem, his mouth opening and closing slightly. 

“Of course I remember you,” he breathed. “How could I not? What are you doing here? How… how did you find me?”

 _Of course I remember you._ An ounce of foolish hope swelled in his chest at those words. Crowley climbed off Bentley and landed on his feet, Aziraphale’s eyes never leaving him. 

“Didn’t do it on purpose. I’m looking for work and the madame in town said a man by your name was looking for help. Figured it couldn’t be anyone else, and I was right.”

Aziraphale blinked, seeming to come out of whatever trance he had been in. “Oh, oh my, what are the chances of that?”

“Ha, yeah, was thinking the same thing. And yet here you are.”

“Yes, here I am.”

There was a long, drawn out moment of silence as they stared at each other. Crowley wasn’t really sure what to say. What could you say to the love of your life who had left you without so much as a goodbye or a backwards glance? If there was an answer, Crowley didn’t have it. So instead, he allowed himself to look his fill, taking in the fine details that time had taken from him. The thickness of his eyebrows, the soft curve of his lips, the way his clothes clung to his fuller form. Fuck, why did he have to be so gorgeous? It wasn’t fair. 

Aziraphale shook himself once more. “Where are my manners? Would you like to come in for a drink?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Aziraphale smiled, though it looked a bit strained, and led him back around the house to the front door. The porch wasn’t huge, but plenty big enough for the rocking chair beside the door and enough room left for a second should he choose it. The front door wasn’t locked, and so they walked right in. It wasn’t a large house by any stretch of the imagination, but it was cozy and very Aziraphale. The main room consisted of a sofa stitched with tartan cloth and a rug stitched with native American textiles beside a fireplace. The kitchen was simply a metal water basin with a stove and icebox, with a table and two chairs beside the window.

“I’m afraid my ice won’t be delivered for another two days, so all I have is room temperature water.”

Crowley shrugged and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. “Fine by me. Not picky.”

Aziraphale poured him a cup and set it in front of him before taking the other chair. They lapsed into an awkward silence while Crowley drank his water. 

“So, uh, this is a nice place. Did you build it on your own?”

“Oh, well, partly. I had some help with the house from two brothers in town. But I made most of the furnishings myself, except for the rug. Members of the Cocopah tribe often travel through town for trade and I acquired it there. Had to give up some of my best leather hides, but I think it was worth it.”

Aziraphale was rambling, his hands twisting a piece of string from his shirt between his fingers. 

“Aziraphale, are you ok?”

He stilled, his hands freezing where they had been worrying the thread. “What? Oh, yes, I’m perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just… not used to company all the way out here.”

Crowley nodded. “Ok, sure.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “So, you said you were looking for work?”

“Oh, yeah, I am. Been riding since Texas.”

“Texas? Have you been there all this time?”

Crowley turned his face to look out the window. “Yeah, where else would I have been? There was work there, and I had nowhere else to go.”

He could feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him but couldn’t bring himself to turn his head and look back. He didn’t want his pity, if that was what he was offering. He pushed down the resentment and pain that was trying to claw its way to the surface. He hadn’t come here to guilt Aziraphale for not loving him. It wasn’t his fault, after all. 

“So, are you looking to hire help then?”

He turned back to Aziraphale, who was watching him with a careful sort of contemplation. 

“I am. Are you sure you want to work here, with me?”

Crowley did his best to give him a carefree smile, though he wasn’t sure he succeeded. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Aziraphale bit his lip, his perfect, straight teeth a hard line against the flushed skin. “I don’t know. But, yes, if you would like to accept the position then it would be a great help. I put out the word months ago and you’re my first bite, truth be told.”

“Lucky me.”

“Quite. I can’t pay much, only about ten dollars per week. But I can offer two daily meals and a place to sleep. It’s not much, and if you need more perhaps I could work something out—”

“Angel, hey, that sounds just fine. You don’t have to convince me. I came here because I wanted to.”

At the mention of that nickname, a slight blush rose to Aziraphale’s cheeks. He looked down at his hands. 

Alright. If you’re sure. I was going to offer anyone who came for work a place to sleep in the barn, but I can’t imagine you’ll rob me. So you can lay your sleeping mat beside the fireplace, if you like. It’ll be much warmer at night.”

Crowley cast him a devilish grin over the top of his cup. “You sure? Maybe I’m the robbing type now. I could have changed a whole lot since you last saw me.”

He expected Aziraphale to roll his eyes, or possibly even reconsider. Instead, his face went unbearably soft. 

“No, you haven’t.”

That thing he kept buried twisted inside him once again, and despite the water he had just drank, his mouth felt drier than before he had drank it. 

“No, not really. Neither have you.”

Something sad crossed Aziraphale’s face. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Some things have changed.”

Crowley wanted to ask him what he meant, beg him to elaborate. But they were treading dangerous ground now. He hadn’t come here to make Aziraphale explain himself or lay bare the truths of his heart. 

“Right. So, will you be needing my help today?”

Aziraphale blinked and shook his head slightly. “Oh, no. No, not tonight. It’ll be getting dark soon. We can start tomorrow. I need help building a fence along the north part of my property. I’ve been meaning to do it for a while, but it’s a rather large job to take on by myself.”

“Well,” Crowley drawled, “lucky I was in the area then.”

Aziraphale offered him a small smile. “Indeed.” 


End file.
